


Head Above the Clouds

by Anchan (Anchan_thevolleyballplayer)



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Coming to terms with his sexuality, Daydreaming, Emotional, Growing Up, Heavy pining, Highschool crush Lee Dongmin | Cha Eunwoo, Introspection, Lee Minho | Lee Know is Whipped, Lee Minho | Lee Know-centric, Light Angst, M/M, Mentioned Lee Dongmin | Cha Eunwoo, Mentions of elimination, Minho is Hopelessly in Love, Romantic Tension, Slow Build, fantasies, writing this made me cry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:00:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25735441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anchan_thevolleyballplayer/pseuds/Anchan
Summary: Another thing that comes in elementary school is superheroes. As Minho has understood, that’s what boys like the most – admiring them and their powers. Easily, he falls in love with superheroes as well.Well, except his fantasies aren’t that much about the fights – they don’t even portray him as the superhero. Like a damsel in distress, Minho is always asking to be saved by a cool boy.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 12
Kudos: 86





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> While this chapter is supposed to be a prequel, it can be read standalone. The rating shouldn't change after the second (main) part is posted.

When Minho enters kindergarten, he learns a lot about what the other kids like. It’s like a world turned over and back into place, except in new colours – ones that are not necessarily more pretty, but they make things quite different.

Unlike at home, where he played with stuffed toys and parents, boys seem to be into cars. And though he doesn’t play with them himself, he keeps a few on his night table.

He finds himself being more drawn towards where the younger kids are playing in the sand. He makes a few friends, too, mostly bonding over cute plushies and sharing colourful plates. He likes the yellow plate because there’s always only one.

Sometimes, he asks the teachers to play with him, caressing and dressing up dolls. He gets called a girl once, but he just laughs in approval.

When no one has time to play with him, he finds entertainment in bugs. Sooner or later, he settles his mind on his own fantasy, and the time passes easily. His mother always listens to him when he tells her what adventures he’s gone through in his head.

Attending elementary school doesn’t come as such surprise.

There’s no more understanding for his favourite pink shirt, and so he keeps it hidden in his closet. He secretly envies the girls that keep showing up dressed all in pink, but he doesn’t follow their example.

At least not in public – the last thing he wants is his friends laughing at him, for a thing he cannot yet understand. He’s never understood.

Rather than playing with toys, peers prefer to play sports, which is not really Minho’s strong suit. It doesn’t take them long to realise, and yet they’re happy when Minho chases after them even if he keeps tripping over his own feet and keeps messing up.

Because more than goals and points, this is about hearing the laughter of his friends, and being able to laugh _with_ them. The chiming sound is worth all bruised knees.

And together with running around, there’s still a bunch of other ways to have fun. Boys are obsessed with cars and animals – something that Minho knows quite a lot about. Most prefer dinosaurs over cats, but they make it work.

Another thing that comes in elementary school is superheroes.

As Minho has understood, that’s what boys like the most – admiring them and their powers. They have names he struggles to pronounce, most of them being from foreign movies, and superpowers he doesn’t completely understand. But when they use them, it looks pretty. It looks like magic.

Easily, Minho falls in love with superheroes as well.

He eagerly watches the newest movies and borrows comics from his classmates, only to end up staring at the pages and creating his own stories the characters could follow. Wondering about what it would be like to get involved.

Well, except his fantasies aren’t that much about the fights – they don’t even portray _him_ as the superhero, but he has never found that weird. More than that, he enjoys coming up with scenarios where he’s the one in trouble, saved by boys a little older than him.

Boys with colourful costumes, capes, and brilliant smiles. Ones that take him by the hand or cradle in their arms when they find him injured on a street in Gimpo. Flying across the sky and bringing Minho to their secret hideaway. Sometimes shielding him with their body from an attack, chest on chest.

Like a damsel in distress, Minho is always asking to be saved by a cool boy.

 _Those are normal, right? They’re best buddies, nothing else._ – nice try, young Minho.

But when he’s twelve, he barely notices the difference between “mate, I told you to stay inside” and “fancy seeing you here buddy” encounters, and the “I can’t lose you, you’re too precious” he prefers over the former. 

Later on, his fantasies lose the _Super_ part but stay as heroes. It’s dream classmates saving him from everyday life – like bullies in school (he doesn’t have any), carrying him when he hurts himself, saving a stray kitty together.

And, obviously, naming it with their combined name because that’s what best friends do.

However, he doesn’t tell these stories to anyone anymore. Something about them feels more intimate and hiding it under his pillow and behind his eyelids feels more right.

They’re an everyday occurrence, catching him unprepared during boring classes or keeping him company on the bus home. Minho tells himself it’s funny, and that he might be a writer one day if his dream of being a professional dancer doesn’t come true.

And then they shift.

Ever so subtly because it does not come at once – rather than that, would he look back at them, it’s as if they were adding up one by one.

One day, there’s absolutely nothing important going on, with a simple daydream of sharing the last meat bun from the school cafeteria with Eunwoo. He would have called that one a crush if he were smarter at that time.

The next starts just as simply, there’s a boy saving him from falling down the stairs–

Except.

He lands on Minho’s lips. 

It isn’t where he was taking the story, probably his subconsciousness pulling him along, but when it happens, Minho feels a spark. It feels nice – satisfying. An addicting press of soft lips against his own, an echo of something he’s never experienced yet seems to crave.

He repeats it in his head a few more times and then proceeds to fall down the stairs for real.

After that, he keeps bringing kisses into his daydreams more often. He doesn’t have a proper explanation yet. He just somehow feels that’s what he wants to see, so he does.

Truth or Dare sweet kisses and moving against someone’s lips; stargazing gone a little astray; locked out in the bathroom that leaves his cheeks a little too warm, just because it carries a meaningful conversation between the main protagonists – and it just happens to be him.

That one drama play (that Minho would be a scriptwriter for) going wrong when the lead actress catches the flu. He’s definitely not flustered about the cheesy “who knows the script better than Minho” input, although in his head, it’s been his own idea. They aren’t performing Romeo and Juliet that year, but that doesn’t stop Minho from projecting that particular scene into his daydream.

Coming up with actual fix it stories – like the time Minho forgets his umbrella when it’s raining and spends the whole walk home imagining his current main lead Eunwoo (which has _nothing_ to do with him being pretty and making Minho a giggling mess every time they talk) sharing his own umbrella and keeping him company.

They talk about Minho’s cats and their hobbies, and he makes them share their interest and like the same shows so they can promise to watch them together. If they end up making out instead of watching not even a week of dreaming after, it’s one of Minho’s first almost-dirty fantasies. 

So, yeah.

He’s always kind of known he liked boys. But he _liked_ them, nothing more. Everyone enjoys thinking about kisses – it doesn’t mean he’s _into_ boys. Which was, admittedly, a stupid mindset.

It takes him until he’s sixteen, when he joins back-up dancers, and suddenly gets involved with a bunch of teenage and adult men. Sweating, shirtless practices, and dancing to suggestive choreographies.

Needless to say, it dawns on him eventually. 

But it doesn’t distract him enough to stop dancing, and so he accepts it as a part of himself. Maybe he dozes off in the waiting room before concerts sometimes, thinking about Taehyung catching him around the waist if he accidentally falls down during a performance – but that’s about it.

And it’s no one else’s business.

With a previous dancer background, it doesn’t surprise him when he gets accepted into JYPE. It doesn’t go according to any of his fantasies (not even when you take out all the pretty boys he could have met on the evaluations), being already rejected once before, but he makes it. And it feels good.

Great, even. This is a new start, an opportunity to become his own star and own the stage. And it only makes it more exciting when it strays away from all the stories he makes up. Unexpected and new – just what he was looking for.

And yet, there’s a pattern. Just like everywhere else, and with hormones in their strongest moment, JYPE means attractive trainees all around.

One particular trainee, if Minho is being honest; if he were honest, though, he would also admit that said trainee has become the object of his attention and imaginary screen-time. His name is Han Jisung, and Minho cannot take his eyes off him ever since he first walks into the room.

He… thinks he’s in love.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Jisung, things are different than anything he’s felt before – everything feels real. More than just a fantasy, more than just a daydream. Out of reach, yet so close to catch if he stretches far enough. 
> 
> Unlike when he was younger, fantasies about Jisung have shifted from waiting to be saved and handled with utmost care. More than that, he wants to be the one to treat Jisung that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [*] For each scene, I’ve been listening to a different song on repeat. It pretty much reflects the atmosphere, so I thought it would be worth sharing for those who tend to listen to music while they’re reading! 
> 
> As the scenes follow, it was Dear (Dreamcatcher), Spring Flower (OST by Loona, Chuu), Neverending Story (OST by Stray Kids), Congratulation (Cover by Stray Kids, Seungmin and Han) and Dear, Secret Story of a Swan (IZ*ONE) and Sweet Crazy Love (Loona, Odd eye circle) and once again Congratulation. 
> 
> (Even if you don’t listen to music while reading, please check out the songs, they’re all beautiful!) 
> 
> ((the list is super messy sorry))

_He shuffles his feet, debating whether or not he should enter the recording studio and disturb him. It could be a bad idea, because Jisung is probably using it, and he might distract him. With opening the door, calling his name… maybe with the acknowledgement that it’s Minho in particular._

_But he’s curious, all the same. What does it look like inside of there? He knows, as they’ve used it before at day – but this is different. It’s only Jisung and the mic. And maybe Minho, too, if he dares to open the door and step inside._

_He reaches for the knob and softly pushes down, hoping to reduce the clicking sound to the minimum._

_When he peeks inside, the studio seems empty. However, as he creeps further, a silhouette can be made out in the recording booth. Jisung is too focused on the lyrics sheet to notice him – so he takes the opportunity to observe. To admire._

_And then Jisung looks up, all too soon because Minho isn’t prepared for the confrontation. But he’s smiling, too, cheeks decorated with strong red (that shouldn’t be visible this late at night, under the dim lights)._

_Within seconds, he’s out of the booth and skipping towards the older. “Hyung, why aren’t you at the dorms?”_

_“I wanted to take you home,” he replies earnestly. Jisung’s eyes tremble in response, fingers tangling into the fabric of his shirt. Minho takes that as a good signal to continue. “You’ve done a lot of work today, let’s take a break.”_

_“But hyung, I really need to finish this soon,” Jisung protests and steps back, eyes falling onto the recording counter._

_“Why?” he returns, noting the way Jisung becomes flustered. It wouldn’t be new to them if he reached out to hold Jisung’s hand, so he does. “Are you working on a new song for 3racha?”_

_“Uh, sort of,” the younger admits. He’s usually proud of their songs, so this attitude makes Minho confused. Thrilled inside, too, because he thinks he knows what’s coming. Maybe._

_Jisung meets his eyes again, and when he speaks up, his voice is more stable: “The song is a gift for someone special. I wanted to let them know how I feel.”_

_“That’s adorable,” he says._

_“Do you want to listen to it?” who would he be to refuse that offer, really. And the song is beautiful, too, playing all of Minho’s strings right. Jisung’s melodic voice mixes well with the soft tunes, a sweet lullaby. And when the song is just about to end, a certain name is pronounced along the confessing lines._

_Lee Minho._

_“Did you like it?” Jisung asks uncertainly, and Minho doesn’t answer. But that’s okay because his lips say more than words could. Just the two of them, sitting on the couch in the empty recording studio and kissing the night away._

_Perfect._

And then the same melodic voice snaps him out of his fantasy. “Minho-hyung?”

It’s hard to look away from Jisung’s lips, especially this up close – _wait, what_ – and it’s even harder to deny the urge when he notices the position Jisung seated himself into. Straddling his lap, hands resting on Minho’s shoulders. If he were any braver, he would have already closed the distance.

“You must be tired, hyung,” Jisung laughs right next to his ear, “you fell asleep while waiting for me.”

Minho blinks a few times, then opens his mouth. Only to immediately close it again.

“That’s what it is, right?” Jisung inquires. “You were waiting for me. That’s cute, but you could have left without me if you were tired. You trained a lot yesterday; I shouldn’t have asked you to stay-”

“It’s good,” Minho replies, mostly because he’s getting overwhelmed by the amount of _Jisung thoughts_ that are circling around his head. They appear every time Jisung appears in his peripheral vision, and it’s impossible to shake them off. He’s not even trying, though.

“Let’s head home?” Jisung suggests, and much to Minho’s disappointment, stands up. He takes the offered hand instead. “I’m done for tonight.”

Minho watches as the younger collects his belongings, then numbly takes his own bag when Jisung holds it out in front of him. He offers a smile in return and gains another teasing comment about being a sleepyhead.

“What’s the song for?” he inquires as he follows Jisung down the hallway and into the elevator.

“The one I mentioned the other day, we’re working on a new release with 3racha,” Jisung answers simply. Then, he goes on about how excited he is, and how good the lyrics sound together with the melody. Something about this being Chan’s idea. “Can’t wait to see the result.”

Minho hums in answer, trying to hide his disappointment. But it’s not that difficult because seeing Jisung excited itself makes him happy, so he quickly lets go of the feeling.

It’s not like he’s expecting Jisung to follow his script. 

This Jisung – the real Jisung – is quite different from the one in his fantasies. Even though he’s picked up a lot of his traits, he cannot deny that he puts a lot of his own assumptions into what he dreams about. It’s easier to project what he’d like to see than analysing what it would look like for real.

He can never be sure about the latter. They _do_ have a great chemistry, and most of their relationship relies on unspoken telepathy – but even they don’t have superpowers, at least not in the real world.

It would be easier if they had some. Minho loves bringing superpowers into his fantasies even now because it makes things more interesting, it gives him more freedom with whatever he wants to dream about. More original opportunities to confess – or be confessed to.

Or anything else, in general. Not _all_ fantasies are about romance, after all. Most of them are, which only makes sense, considering that’s how he’s developed this habit. A way to express his attraction and needs – one that he can keep to himself, since the stories only exist in his head.

But then, sometimes it’s simply excitement of what could await him in the future – or alternatively, how the past could have looked if he were friends with different people. If he knew Jisung back then. Or any other trainee.

There’s just so many possibilities when you say, ‘ _What if?’_

Being with Jisung is easy.

They have similar humour, so even though their natures are quite different, they eventually find way to each other. Mostly because Minho keeps trying, but Jisung gladly accepts him in his environment.

Naturally, the two are gravitating towards each other. 

And that means Minho is following the younger everywhere he goes, even if it means going out of his way and spending extra time around the company, as well as the dorms, or wherever Jisung needs him. It doesn’t matter, as long as he’s welcome by his side.

Similarly, the sweetheart always finds a spare moment for Minho when he needs something.

It’s the way they are.

“I’m in charge of groceries for the dorms this week,” Jisung announces, sliding down the wall near Minho’s belongings. He doesn’t seem very thrilled about it, but his next words are soaked in enthusiasm. “Would you like to keep me company?”

Minho secretly loves the pouty expression Jisung makes when he’s persuading others, mostly directed at Changbin or Chan, but ever so often used for seducing Minho to help him around. Never once was he able to refuse.

“Anytime,” he blurts out, and when Jisung’s eyes widen, he adds, “I’ve been craving them, and this is a good opportunity to buy them.”

The younger laughs and nods in approval. “Will you share some with me?” 

“Only if you share some of the Malaysian candies you received from your parents last week,” he responds, and he’s glad that the thoughts about Jisung’s comfort package make him forget about the weirdness from before.

“You’ve got yourself a deal,” is enough to heave him up and carry him towards Jisung, changing course last minute to pack his bag instead of collapsing on top of the younger, and let himself be dragged outside the studio and out of the company.

Well, not _dragged_ because Jisung isn’t touching him continuously, spare for occasionally brushing arms. They’re not holding hands like they could, but he’s following the younger anyway.

Lead by the bubbly voice trying to keep a conversation going, while Minho struggles to keep _himself_ going without thinking about how they _really should be holding hands right now._

_Neither would mind intertwining their fingers as they walk, swinging their arms together as they fall into step and let themselves get carried away. They’re not famous yet, no more than two teens walking hand in hand._

_Perhaps Jisung would be a little flustered, cheeks flushed pink, leaning into Minho’s side as if to hide away from the rest of the world. “We’re just keeping each other warm,” they would reason if anyone pointed it out. “We don’t want to get lost from each other.”_

By the time they reach the convenience store, the conversation is running smoothly, but so is Minho’s restless mind. He welcomes the idea to split tasks and make things easier – it will certainly make it easier on Minho, giving him time to put together a decent composure.

It doesn’t help much, but he at least feels more confident. Strolling around, clearing things off the list, observing odd customers. Finding the candy section by memory and heading towards where the gummies are usually displayed.

Reaching for said package of _Anytime_ and being reunited with partner in the most – _fantastic_ – awkward way. His heartbeat accelerates when he catches the younger in his peripheral vision. 

The warmth of Jisung’s palm over his – _finally._

“Sorry,” comes right after the acknowledgement, but Minho just waves him off.

Being nonchalant about simple touches and flirty words he sometimes experimentally directs at Jisung is now a mastered skill, he’d like to think.

“Do you have everything on your list?” Minho inquires instead, looking Jisung up and down. The younger doesn’t notice, preoccupied with all the colourful packages of irresistible sweets. Minho prefers the one standing in front of him, but Jisung doesn’t need to know that.

“Yup,” Jisung chimes happily, popping the last letter. “Except for candies, I’m just impulsively buying those.”

“Well, we have the _Anytime_ now,” he nods along to the shopping cart. “Pick anything else you would like.”

“Yeah, we do,” Jisung nods and looks away to observe some lemon hard candies. His brows are furrowed, and Minho almost reaches out to touch them, then gets a hold of himself and rather focuses on the snacks in front of him.

His eyes, however, stay trained on the sweetheart. Appreciating his soft features, the way his mouth forms shapes when he pronounces the name of each candy under his breath.

He mimics the gesture when Jisung bites his lower lip, straightening his back in a way he does when he needs a confidence boost. He’s seen this one too many times to let it pass unnoticed.

“Hyung, I wanted to ask you something,” Jisung announces, and it’s no more than a mumble but it sounds way more serious than expected. Without knowing why, Minho’s stomach fills up with nerves. “I wanted to talk about this for a little while, actually.”

_The air around them slows down until it’s only the two of them, standing in an empty corridor in the local convenience store. It feels intimate because they make it so. They’re holding hands again, this time for real, and Jisung’s palms are sweaty._

_“Hyung, I think I like you,” Jisung confesses, looking into his eyes. “A lot.”_

_He’s trembling just slightly, but Minho’s hold is keeping him grounded. He wants to be the person that stands beside Jisung and provides a ground to stand on, a wall to shield him, and a blanket to envelop him in warmth and so many feelings._

_There has been a fantasy like that, partially inspired by a fairy tale he’s read as a kid. After providing all three to the prince of his dreams, he breaks a curse and can marry him._

_He wants to marry Jisung, too. It won’t be that easy, but it’s nice to think about._

_“I like you too,” he replies gently, squeezing Jisung’s hand._

_“No, not like that,” Jisung shakes his head, desperately. “More like…” he trails off and when he turns towards Minho, he’s holding out a package of gummy hearts. “I like you this way, hyung!”_

_“Me too,” he confirms, getting more serious. Why doesn’t the dream Jisung understand what he’s saying? Well, he isn’t truly clear with articulating his feelings, and it won’t be easy with the real Jisung either. He’s not good with words, but a fantasy could help him practice._

_“Do you like me the way I like you?”_

_“Yeah, I do,” he admits. “I’ve always had.”_

_Jisung is stunned and doesn’t say anything until they return to the dorms, huddling under the covers of Minho’s bed and sharing the package of heart shaped sweets. They feed each other, conveying their feelings all over again with each gummy treat._

Minho registers movement, and his eyes fixate on the younger. He’s no longer staring at the candies, undone shoelaces being far more interesting, and further away from Minho’s gaze. 

“You see,” Jisung takes a breath, and finally looks him in the eye, then spits out in one go, “Chan is collecting members that would form a team for possible debut, and I’d love to have you with us. So, would you please accept my invitation?”

That’s not at all what he was expecting. But…

Even though it’s not a confession, it makes Minho feel _things._ Out of everyone in the company, he chooses Minho to accompany him, he wants him to become a part of his team. To never break apart, and always stay together.

“Yes,” he answers. The single word can’t possibly convey all of his feelings – _yes, anything for you, yes, I’d be honoured. I want to take this opportunity, I feel ready. I want to keep being with you._

But there’s nothing else coming out of his mouth, so it’ll have to do.

And Jisung seems to understand all the words hidden underneath.

His own eyes are reflecting everything Minho doesn’t dare to say. 

It works out, at first, and they spend a fair amount of time being stressed about their destiny, fighting for their spotlight against female trainees and then being forced into another broadcast, this time focusing on their team as a whole and watching as their head of their company picks them apart.

Minho is the first one in line to get said cold treatment.

Then he’s out, eliminated before he gets another chance to showcase himself. To properly say goodbye if nothing else. They let him record a video message, but that’s far from enough.

What he really wants is to approach his teammates and hug them goodbye one more time.

Maybe it’s partially good that it doesn’t let him see Jisung. He doesn’t know if he could keep his cool around the younger. Every time he catches a glance of the sweetheart, the painful throb in his heart reminds him it could easily be the last time, too.

Twice the pain that is, because not only he’s lost the opportunity to debut, but he has also lost the person most previous to his heart.

It gets slightly better when Felix joins him, being the second eliminated member.

If nothing, they can at least share their misery.

Over the last months, Minho has become quite fond of Felix, and it’s not nearly enough to replace his feelings for Jisung – he would be a fool if he thought those were replaceable – but it provides a distraction. And it gives him hope to debut with at least one of his friends.

He wants to make himself forget, and so he lets himself dream about what will await him now. There must be another boy group debuting in the near future, and even if it doesn’t, he’s received critique, and has enough time to improve now.

He will find new friends; he already has a few trainees who keep him company these days. Soon, there’s going to be enough of them to request their round.

It won’t be the same, not without his soulmate, but it won’t be bad. 

Someone else will take up Chan’s place, being an amazing leader and an even better older brother. Other trainees will be just as funny as Seungmin and Changbin are, and there will be less fights without Jisung and Hyunjin around. And Felix will stay, at least.

_It will never be the same._

As if on purpose – maybe it is fate playing an unfair game, plotting against him – he stumbles upon those he misses the most. He must turn around before any of them can catch a glimpse of him. 

His footsteps are heavy and thoughts bitter, but he forces himself to keep walking. He must not look back and carry on. He must not call Jisung’s name to catch his attention – he doesn’t have to, because the younger is already turning towards him.

He picks up the pace.

And hears footsteps rushing behind him, getting closer with each moment that passes.

He groans in frustration and turns around.

Left staring into the deep universe that is hidden behind Jisung’s eyes.

He wants to cry.

_Jisung breaks the silence first, lurching forward until he’s falling into Minho’s arms. He’s sobbing, tears soaking Minho’s clothes, but he doesn’t mind one bit. It’s one last piece of Jisung being imprinted into him, and he’ll savour it._

_“I love you so much, hyung, I’ll never leave you behind,” the younger is saying, bawling into his shirt and clutching at his back. “No matter what, I’ll find a way to get you back on track with us.”_

_“Thank you for everything, Jisung,” he finds himself saying instead. “Please don’t forget about me.”_

_“What are you saying,” Jisung insists, tears spilling down his cheeks, and all Minho wants to do is to kiss them away. “You’ll be there with us. With me.”_

_“I’m always going to be, here,” he says, bringing his hand towards Jisung’s chest, just above his heart. It’s beating uncontrollably under the skin. His own heartbeat matches the pace. “I will always love you, sweetheart.”_

_His whole body shaking with frustration and grief, Jisung presses into his chest again, arms slipping around his neck and lips finding solace in melting against his own. It hurts too much to be only a fantasy – it’s way more than that, to Minho. Everything he’s felt for the younger is portrayed into the kiss, and he really, genuinely wants to do the same thing to the Jisung who’s standing in front of him._

_Once and for real, he wants to end this. It won’t matter anymore, not to Jisung who will move on. Find a happy future with his current group, and a hopefully pleasant memory of Minho in his heart._

_“We will meet again, hyung,” hurts, too. Will he be ready for another encounter? Would he still love Jisung when they meet again? Would the younger accept him, after being separated for so long, getting a taste of what it feels like to not have each other?_

No – that’s wrong. _Stop._ When this ends, which will be soon, they won’t meet again.

It hurts too much to acknowledge but it’s true. No more Jisung, no more aching fondness spreading through his chest like a wildfire, no more silent wishes to become one with Jisung.

It’s all history.

No more fantasies, and that applies to now, too. This is reality, and it’s too harsh, and the scene in his head is painfully unreal. He must end this now, and face what awaits him when Jisung speaks up, because it won’t be as soothing as he’d like it to be – but that’s reality, and he must accept it as it is.

Otherwise, he will never be able to let go. 

Whatever Jisung is about to say cannot change that.

“How’s the training going, hyung?” he seems unsure with himself, almost nervous. Understandably awkward – they haven’t talked to each other ever since the fateful day. They can’t pretend it didn’t happen, though.

“It’s going,” Minho answers simply.

At this, Jisung chuckles softly, prolonging his stare for long enough that Minho forgets how to breathe. There are so many words he wants to say, and he _could_ , yet he can’t.

Instead, he listens to anything that Jisung has to say, now reaching around to get a hold of his phone and a pair of tangled earphones. Minho is the one who usually helps him untangle them, mindlessly going through the swirls, and getting lost in Jisung’s bubbly chatter.

He misses that.

“I know, we should be preparing for debut, but here,” he rushes to explain as he hands both items to Minho. “We wanted to give you something before you leave.”

Without another glance at the younger, Minho unlocks the phone (the combination is Minho’s birthday) and finds himself face to face with a song demo. It wouldn’t be the first time Jisung let him listen to one of their tracks.

But.

This feels… different.

The younger nudges him to let it play, and he does, letting himself be pulled into the beautiful melody. Getting lost in the comforting words of his friends, like they were meant to be for him.

They were.

Changbin is the one who starts the song, his fast pace being no surprise for Minho. The rapper has always had many things on his mind, and Minho has found it easy to open up to him who gave advice from heart and made him feel like he genuinely cares. It’s no different with this song.

Hearing Chan’s voice is soothing, in a way. The older has always been someone Minho held onto when he felt lost, knowing that as a leader, he can get them past any obstacle. He will, although Minho will no longer be the one tagging along.

He braces himself when he catches Jisung’s voice in the recording. These words hit all too close to home, but no wonder – Jisung has been there for the most of his trainee moments. He knows the best. He also hopes for the best for him.

The tears that stream down his face belong to Jisung only.

He’s not done listening but Jisung doesn’t let him stand there and cry. Somehow, it only feels better when Jisung actually embraces him while he listens to his voice repeat the same words over and over again in his ears.

 _It ain’t over –_ a part of it _is,_ though. The most important part is gone, out of Minho’s reach. Lingering just so close he wants to keep holding on, smiling brightly at Minho through his own tears.

“It’s not nearly enough, I know,” he says, “but I can’t undo what’s been done.”

 _It’s perfect,_ Minho wants to say. He doesn’t, choosing to remain silent, because he fears his own words will give him away. _Everything that has to do with you is perfect for me._

“Hyung, we won’t leave you behind,” he cries, “I know we will find a way to each other again.”

They won’t, but if there’s a chance for them to keep standing next to each other, he’s willing to do anything for that happy ending. He will continue practicing and he will get better, and maybe, he will catch up to Jisung one day. He will be smiling at him from across the stage. 

“And,” he takes a deep breath, “we’ll always stay friends. Okay?”

His throat closes up, and he ends up humming instead of giving him a proper answer. When he opens his mouth to try again, his voice breaks in the middle. Jisung gives him an apologetic smile but he doesn’t stop crying.

Seeing him like this makes Minho want to comfort him, but he knows he shouldn’t because from now on, the sweetheart will have other members for that. For everything that used to be Minho’s lucky privilege – there will be someone to take his heart, too.

That one will hurt the most.

The door open and close several times, but the sound is muted to Minho’s ears. He barely registers when Woojin shuffles inside and then waddles back towards the living room after what seems to have been too long. He’s tired.

Good tired, not bad tired, though – there’s a difference.

Bad tired involves running high on caffeine and at least two sleepless nights and limbs aching from pain more than exhaustion and thoughts filled with regret and flashing memories of the elimination night. Only Felix can empathise with this kind of bad tired, though. For most, the last symptom would be simply the fear of _being_ eliminated mixed with grief about their loss.

This is good tired – practicing choreographies all day, legs tired from running errands, muscles spasming and the satisfied feeling of having a dorm room to share with his members.

The team is the best part, though. Although noisy and always obnoxiously loud, their nature makes Minho feel at home. Maybe not that, since living with three cats and no siblings differs quite a lot, but it’s definitely a place he would call his second home.

When he was younger, he used to say he didn’t like people – most humans were nosy, self-centred, and judging. But unlike most humans, none of the trainees are particularly mean (Hyunjin and Jisung aren’t mean, and they haven’t fought all that much lately). Always accepting him for who he is, even if that means screaming for no reason, taking photos with weird filters, and approaching sleeping roommates to boop their noses.

Sure, he has friends from high school, and it’s not like he was a loner – but still. He would’ve never guessed that he’d become this fond of other human beings.

All the members are people he would die for, brothers he’s never had yet always secretly asked for. And still, there’s something special about having Jisung.

He’s known that from the start, though he doesn’t remember when the moment was that he realised his feelings were more than just platonic. No, that’s a lie. That was more than clear from the start, whether because Minho couldn’t stop looking at the young trainee, which Changbin very _not_ helpfully kept pointing out for the whole eternity, or simply because Jisung started appearing in his fantasies more often than not.

Either reason proves that his feelings are exceptional.

With Jisung, things are different than anything he’s felt before – everything feels real. More than just a fantasy, more than just a daydream. Out of reach, yet so close to catch if he stretches far enough. 

Unlike when he was younger, fantasies about Jisung have shifted from waiting to be saved and handled with utmost care. More than that, he wants to be the one to treat Jisung that way.

It must be.

What he feels is unmistakably love.

It feels incredibly satisfying to say, and so he does a few more times, then whispers it into the silent room for good measures, because he’s suddenly not so sure whether he’s thinking or talking, and he wants to make sure no one will overhear.

_He’s in love with Han Jisung._

The door open once again, and Minho considers growling at whoever has dared to enter his sacred grounds. A few minutes earlier, the secret would have been revealed if they were listening – that should be enough of a reason to be grumpy. 

The comfortable feeling of having his mouth closed, however, overweighs the idea.

Instead, he listens to the sounds that the unwanted guest is making – until he notices they’re getting suspiciously close to his bed.

Minho opens his eyes cautiously, following the shuffling sounds that disrupt the silence. Scanning the room for an intruder, he soon recognises a familiar frame standing above his bed. The sight of Jisung makes him relax immediately, any possible tension in his body getting replaced by comfort.

The pleasant warmth inside of his chest intensifies when Jisung undoes the sheets and slides into the bed next to him. Not close enough to touch, but just enough to take Minho’s breath away.

An easy task, for Jisung.

“Do you mind if I stayed here?” the younger inquires, and Minho chuckles in response. In disbelief, obviously, because where’s the point in asking when he’s already here?

Additionally, he finds it funny to _ask for permission,_ with something so simple as sharing space.

But they’re not sharing _just any_ space, after all. He wonders whether they’ve slept in the same bed before – they haven’t. The few times Jisung has visited his house, they simply set up a futon for him. That’s what Minho’s mom did, and neither dared to protest. Jisung didn’t, probably because he didn’t care, and Minho didn’t either, because he felt stupid.

No, sharing a bed is a special occasion. They’re about to witness each other in their most natural forms, asleep and vulnerable. Jisung _chose_ to fall asleep right next to him.

Minho pretends to be unphased, and his strategy works, because Jisung doesn’t ask any questions. They’re both tired, after all, so even if Minho acts weird, they can write it off to his brain being clouded (which _is_ the truth), and Jisung probably won’t notice either.

He needs to calm down before his heartbeat gives him away.

Watching Jisung fall asleep makes him feel privileged, for some reason. It’s not anything special – Jisung is talking to him, answering his questions, and reacting to whatever topic Minho chooses to talk about, no matter how boring or unreasonable – and then, suddenly, he isn’t.

One second his eyes are open, and then he blinks, and they stay closed for good.

Minho waits a few more beats before he allows himself to exhale. Good, Jisung is asleep.

He should go to sleep soon, too. They’ve been practicing for hours now that he’s back in track. The shut eye is much needed, and yet he finds himself glued to the sight of his teammate, his sleeping beauty.

(He must tell Jisung one day, how pretty he is at night and in the morning, without all the make up and touch-ups to his natural look. He’s the prettiest like this.)

_Ah._

There’s no helping it, with a moment so intimate.

_There’s countless possibilities where this could go – secret confessions, sleep talking, simply holding onto the lovely person that is lying beside him unaware of his feelings._

_Minho chooses the last one, mostly because with Jisung so close, it’s hard to dream big. Jisung’s presence grounds him, brings him back to reality when his worries overtake his head, but provides a hand to hold onto when he lets himself get lost above the clouds, too._

_With Jisung so close, the reality dawns on him, and when it comes to it – the real world – anything will do, as long as it means getting a little closer to Jisung. To a happy ending, no matter how ordinary or fantastic. With Jisung, it’ll be perfect anyway._

_Would Jisung let him play with his hair? Reaching out, the brown strands slide between his fingers with ease. He has brushed Jisung’s hair enough times to know exactly how it feels, the gentle caress of the brush now being replaced by his fingers. When ruffling his hair, Minho only has a few moments to admire the softness but in a moment like this, he has enough time to reflect._

_If Jisung were awake, would he pull him close? One swift motion and Minho would have the sweetheart in his arms, feeling his heartbeat echo against his chest. Would he lean into his ear and whisper ‘I love you’?_

_Maybe he would caress Minho’s cheek, getting lost in the eyes that hold so much fondness. In a world where Jisung would know, would_ feel _back, it would be so easy to say those words back. Whispered into the air for no one but them to hear, while he cradles the younger in his arms like he doesn’t want to lose him. He really doesn’t, not after they’ve come this far._

Getting a little lost in the image of Jisung reciprocating his feelings, Minho returns back to the original fantasy – one where Jisung doesn’t, in fact, know that he’s awake. A fantasy where he’s still hiding his feelings from the world. It has a happy ending, somewhere in the near future.

_He would wrap his arms around Jisung, shielding him from the world. What if he said he’s done that in his sleep when they wake up in that position still?_

_The early morning, and a slightly confused yet delighted Jisung waking up to Minho’s feelings seeping through his back together with the warmth of their bodies. A little later, a slightly disoriented and nervous Minho waking up to Jisung gently smiling at him, legs tangled together and two tiny hands clutching to the front of his shirt to pull him into a kiss._

A hand squeezes his chest just above his heart, and it takes him a moment to realise he’s done so. But once he does, the soft ache he feels spreading through his chest can’t go unnoticed anymore. He’s not surprised by the reaction – it happens, sometimes, when he thinks about Jisung a little too much.

He should stop, and yet he can’t bring himself to let go.

He wants to keep feeling like this forever, even if it means dreaming on, instead of facing his feelings towards the younger. But maybe letting them out doesn’t necessarily mean losing it, either. Holding Jisung in his arms _and_ feeling like this.

A deep breath – and exhale – another intake of much needed air. A clear mind may help him focus on other things and get the shut eye he desperately needs. Instead, it makes him all too aware of the proximity to the sweetheart.

And right then and there, he really, really, really wants to kiss Jisung.

Would… would it be bad if he shuffled a little closer?

The desire is too overwhelming to deny, and he finds himself aching for the sweetheart. He carefully rolls over to his side, watching Jisung’s back rise and fall with each breath. It’s not as easy as one would think, to breathe evenly when in close distance to the one you love; Minho has to often remind himself how it’s done. He feels like he needs the push, right in the moment.

With bated breath, he reaches forward, gently placing one arm over Jisung’s waist. The younger makes a noise of acknowledgement, no more than a soft hum, and Minho feels like fainting. When he pulls Jisung back into his chest, he stays silent.

The silence falls upon them for long enough that Minho considers closing his eyes, too, but soon enough, he finds that he cannot sleep.

It’s hard to not think about the warmth pressed into his chest, the way Jisung’s body fits perfectly with his like a puzzle. How the sweetheart doesn’t mind in the slightest when he presses into his back and slides his arms around his body.

He holds onto Jisung like the dreams may drift them away.

Being awake is different, because there’s a boundary between friendly bonding and intimacy, one that either can erase but won’t – right now, these two blur into one.

The soft puffs of breath are a symphony to Minho’s ears. The one sound he wants to keep listening to forever, together with Jisung’s voice in general. When they grow up, one day, when Jisung acknowledges his feelings and doesn’t let him down, he wants to have this. More than anything. 

Dance practices are Minho’s favourite part of their schedule for numerous reasons. First, it has to do with dancing, and he would lie if he said that isn’t the most important reason. Second, dancing means bonding with his _team,_ a reminder they’re endgame now. They’re practicing for their _debut._

Last but not least, practices involve all nine members and provide him a good excuse for watching Jisung move and fool around. Not that he’s normally not allowed to watch, but he feels sneaky.

Especially when he’s not doing anything himself, it only makes sense to watch the maknae line practice until perfect, and it’s not like others have to know what’s happening behind the scenes, inside of his mind.

Ever since that day when Jisung let him hold his sleeping form, things have shifted. It doesn’t necessarily mean that Jisung is catching feelings, even though said alternative would be nice.

What it really means is constant touching. It’s not entirely new, they’ve always been close both physically and as soulmates, but it seems to have gained a new layer of comfort, after the boundary has been overstepped once.

It doesn’t mean that Jisung finds him to hold onto and cuddle more than usual, just that they’re experimenting more. This, too, is a stage of friendship, nothing more than Jisung allowing him to become more addicted. And still, it makes him hopeful.

Jisung looks over to where he’s sitting on the couch at the back of the studio, and he could be looking at anyone – Changbin is melting into the cushions right beside him – but the possibility of being the centre of Jisung’s attention makes him happy, nevertheless. 

_“Hyung, come over here,” Jisung waves at him, fluttering his lashes- okay, no, he wouldn’t. He would yell at him and whine about him taking a little too longer to give up his comfortable position on the couch. Maybe he would even come to stand in front of him, making faces at him and pulling him up by his outstretched hands._

_Once he’s in motion and on his feet, Jisung drags him towards the dance floor. “Could you go over the moves with me?”_

_“Sure,” Minho nods, “what can’t you understand?”_

_“The first half of the dance break is quite difficult,” Jisung admits, shuffling his feet. “I can’t get the moves right; it just doesn’t feel as it should.”_

_“Worry not, your hyung is here to save the day,” Minho smirks, reciting something that reminds him of superhero movies. Jisung catches the reference easily, joking about it in a way only Jisung can. He stops laughing, however, when Minho starts with his ministration._

_He doesn’t need to tell Jisung to ‘watch carefully’ because the younger is totally entranced by his moves, anyway, rarely catching Minho’s eyes, and rather focusing on his body. He should have told him to ‘keep breathing’, though. That advice would have been helpful._

_“You make it look so easy,” Jisung says when he’s done dancing. He just ruffles his head, returning a sweet, “you’ll do just as well with some more practice.”_

_“I’m still not sure… but let me try.” Watching Jisung dance is always a good show, because what the younger lacks in dancing skills he makes up for in following the beat and his unmistakable charisma. Minho could watch him for hours on end, never getting tired of it._

_But he’s right – the moves are too clumsy to portray such aggressive song. Nothing a helping touch wouldn’t fix, is what he tells Jisung with a teasing tone._

_At first, the sweetheart doesn’t understand what he’s implying. It’s only when his hands press into Jisung’s waist and force him to bend forward that Jisung catches on. His body is warming Minho up, and he’d love to believe it’s because of the contact more than exhaustion and sweat._

_“Drop your body lower, and follow the motion from there,” he advices, but doesn’t let go of Jisung’s body, so when the motion is carried out, he can feel every moment of it. The mirror in front of them reflects Jisung’s burning red cheeks. “One more time.”_

_“Ah, I think that’s enough hyung,” Jisung whines after one too many tries, pushing away from Minho. “My heart won’t take another take.”_

_After hearing those words, Minho doesn’t let him walk away, spinning him back into his arms. “My heart won’t take another moment holding back.”_

_And then, he finally, finally kisses him–_

Someone shakes his body with too much enthusiasm, bringing him back to reality rather harshly. When he refocuses on his surroundings, he finds Changbin gripping his shoulders, grinning from ear to ear. “Earth to Minho?”

He hums in response and hopes that will be enough to shake Changbin off. However, the rapper doesn’t let himself get turned down that easily. The evil laugh that follows should have prepared Minho for his next words.

“Having a good time?” he teases, pointing at the corner of Minho’s mouth. “You’re drooling.”

Which isn’t true, as Changbin only uses it to imply that Minho is, once again, staring. He’d like to deny that fact, however, when he reaches up to cover his mouth, he gives himself away to him. Changbin only laughs louder when he tells him to cut it out.

“You’re really whipped, hyung,” he comments, as discreetly as it’s possible between fits of laughter. He doesn’t really want to give Minho away, knowing well what it feels like to hold secret feelings for a teammate. Minho isn’t going to tease him about them either, not unless it’s clear they’re simply making fun of each other.

No one minds them, though, and so he dares to continue. “Go get him, you know that he’d appreciate your help. He’s just too proud to ask for some.”

“Unfortunately, I am trying to keep this crush a secret,” Minho shakes his head, “and unlike in my head where I have _full control over myself,_ I don’t think I can keep my composure helping him.”

“Hold your horses,” Changbin whistles. “Keep that as a reward for your private practice. Besides, that won’t really stop you.” 

“You’re right,” _embarrassing himself won’t stop him from trying._ “Fine, watch.”

“No, thank you. I’m sure you’d appreciate some privacy,” Changbin mumbles out as a response, but it’s lost to Minho’s ears when he stands up and approaches Jisung.

“Would you appreciate some help?”

They make it.

Spending their free afternoons in the dance studios, staying up all night to practice and make sure everything is running smoothly, the exhausting schedule – it’s all worth it.

Their debut stage goes smoothly, and when they’re done dancing, they all feel proud of each other. They’ve come so far, and all the hard work paid off. That is more than enough of a reason to celebrate, and they find themselves holding a small party in the dorm rooms no more than a few hours after.

He’s approached by Jisung not too long into the night, and he welcomes the attention. For a while, Jisung sticks to his side and entertains himself with talking to others while he leans into Minho’s side for comfort. Minho dares to keep his arms around the younger’s waist, keeping him safe.

Not long after, the hand on his sleeve tightens its hold, and he’s dragged away from the celebration.

Minho knows better than to worry. The sweetheart is just as happy as everyone else here, just as ecstatic about their achievement, and possibly even more excited since it means debuting with his best friend. He just doesn’t have a social battery for this.

He doesn’t ask where they’re going, but it doesn’t surprise him when Jisung chooses to enter his hyung’s room over his own.

When the door close behind them, Minho almost asks what’s wrong, but his words are drowned by Jisung’s actions, being pulled into a tight hug, and pressed against the wall. It takes more courage that he has to return the gesture, but he braces himself and embraces the younger anyway.

He squeezes back with everything he has, silently conveying what he’s too scared to say out loud.

_The comforting smell of Jisung invades his senses, his melodic voice resonating in his ears when Jisung murmurs his confession into his neck. Saying how much he loves Minho and how glad he is that they’re here together._

_Minho buries his nose into Jisung’s neck, too, nodding along to everything the younger says._

_“I’ve waited for this moment,” Jisung whimpers, “Please tell me this is real.”_

_It is – they are real. Minho confirms, shaking when he detaches himself from Jisung only to cradle the sweetheart in his hold again, caressing his lovely cheeks and meeting his dreamy eyes._

_They hold so much understanding for Minho, even when they’re simply standing next to each other. Always there and knowing, no matter where they are or what they’re thinking about when their eyes meet across the room. Except for one particular thing – but in this fantasy, he lets the sweetheart understand that, too._

_Jisung continues talking about them, about his feelings, that they will always be together in the future. As teammates, best friends, soulmates, and lovers. If Minho feels the same, that is._

_Of course he is, he’s always felt that way._

_He’s painfully in love with Han Jisung._

Right then, he’s overwhelmed with everything he feels for the sweetheart. Drop by drop, he feels his feelings crashing against the dam he’s built to keep them inside – he knows it isn’t strong enough to hold them back anymore. After all this time, it’s useless.

Before he knows it, he’s kissing Jisung.

The sweetheart doesn’t resist the pressure on his lips, doesn’t push Minho away in disgust like he could have. He doesn’t kiss back nor attach to Minho either.

“Hyung?”

“I love you,” Minho breathes out against his lips, too stunned to register his own words. A moment later, his brain catches up and he mutters out a series of _I like you, I mean, you know, I like you that way, I’m sorry for being this forward–_

“Yeah, I know,” Jisung chuckles breathlessly, he sounds fond. “I like you too.”

Through all of his fantasies, and everything that goes on in Minho’s head, he would have never dared to think about this possibility – Jisung knows about his feelings _and_ likes him back.

Was he hiding his own until now, and when he found out they were reciprocated, he wanted to take the chance? Were he planning to confess today, and Minho beat him to it?

His sweetheart is smiling at him now, almost sheepishly, waiting for a reaction. He’s rocking on his heels, restless, biting his lips as if he were trying to stop himself from talking. No matter how much Minho actually wants to listen to him, there are things he need to say first.

“Jisung, I–”

“Me too, hyung,” he nods, voice trembling, and his eyes are filling with tears. “I love you.”

And from there, Minho internally spirals out of control, feeling his mind crashing down under the weight of Jisung’s words. He’s not dreaming – no, he really isn’t.

Han Jisung, the love of his fantasies and subject of his life, likes him back.

“I’m so in love with you,” is the last thing he manages to say out loud before his mind shuts down completely. But that’s okay because his lips are securely pressed against Jisung’s, and his body is holding onto the younger – in the end, it’s Jisung keeping him grounded, not the other way around.

He loves it, though, like everything else about his sweetheart.

That night, they keep each other company, bodies pressed tightly together, and limbs intertwined. Minho holds onto his sweetheart as if he were scared to lose him. Not anymore, but the reminder of having Jisung by his side is appreciated, anyway.

This time, he doesn’t _need_ to imagine things – all he needs to do is to reach out and make them come true. Jisung is just as eager to get his hands on Minho, whispering his story into the darkness. Minho follows suit, though he doesn’t mention his fantasies yet.

There will be a night, or another moment in their lives – the life they are now sharing – when Minho comes out with this part of himself. And he knows Jisung will accept it.

He’s sure that Jisung has his own embarrassing share of secrets that are waiting to be said.

Minho will be here to listen to each one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [*] Can I just say; I enjoyed writing this piece a lot. Even though the concept may seem silly, and I hopefully managed to bring a little humour into the second part (along with all the tension and feels), the story speaks to me on a personal level. Not exactly what I’ve experienced while growing up, but the contrast between what is real and what’s in his head hits close to home. Not realising what these kinds of fantasies imply until way later and then being absolutely amused at my own stupidity too. 
> 
> Anyway, that goes mainly for the first chapter, this one is here only because I actually wanted to showcase some of the fantasies and give him a proper story & a boyfriend 
> 
> [*] I’m honestly surprised with how long this is, but it only makes sense, because the fantasies made each scene twice as long. However, for such a big project, it took me very little time to finish it. 
> 
> [*] Please share your thoughts in the comments, I’d love to know what you think about this story <3


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